Anchor
by DreamingLove2013
Summary: Sometimes, when Oil and Water have no other option but each other, they have to make it work. The results are pleasantly surprising. Takes place after 1x13.


**Author's note: I own nothing! I'm thankful for your responses and your favorites to my last one-shot. I definitely believe that real love takes time to develop. This is the vision I see for Clarke and Bellamy. I know in the books they are already a couple, but I love the development I see between them in the show. It is so much more believable! But I absolutely adore them in the books too. With that said, my writing will be mostly one-shots and maybe some short stories. I don't really have any ideas for a long story! This one-shot is based on elements from the show and the book. Thanks for reading! I would REALLY love to hear your responses. **

Bellamy was running for his life, which was nothing new since he arrived on Earth. His side screamed in protest as he ran; the Reaper had stabbed him during their fight.

Clarke looked over her shoulder at him. She was yards ahead of him, frantically looking for the old car Finn had found hidden.

"Bellamy, come on!" she pressed, running to him.

Bellamy held his side as she grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. The Mt. Weather People could find them at any minute- Clarke had said so.

They finally stopped and Clarke held the door to the hidden car open. "You go in first," Bellamy said, moving towards her.

Clarke pursed her lips and quickly climbed inside. She reached out her hand to him to help him inside. Bellamy ignored her and climbed in, groaning in response to the painful pull he felt in his side.

Clarke muttered something incoherent and quickly shut the door. Bellamy slumped to the ground, his breathing shallow. Clarke crashed to her knees in front of him and moved his hand away from his injured side.

"What are you doing?" Bellamy drearily murmured.

Clarke raised an eyebrow at him. "You're hurt."

She hesitantly lifted his shirt and examined his throbbing right side. Bellamy let his eyes roam over her dirt-streaked face. Her brows were knit with concern and frustration. Her red-blonde hair was tangled and disheveled. A small smile teased the corners of his mouth, despite his pain. Bellamy was relieved that Clarke had been the one to survive, out of all the other people who could have survived the disaster with the Reapers.

Relief. It was a gift to feel relief at this point. Clarke sighed and took off her jacket.

"What are you doing?" Bellamy murmured.

Clarke glanced at him briefly and then returned her attention to her jacket. "You were stabbed and you're still bleeding." She tore her jacket to strips of cloth before Bellamy could protest.

"You're going to freeze," he pointed out as she wrapped a long piece of cloth around his torso.

"And you're going to bleed to death if I don't stop the bleeding," Clarke retorted.

Another smile made his lips twitch. Clarke was being stubborn and argumentative. He found himself wanting to hear her infuriating stubbornness a thousand times more than seeing her dead.

Clarke sat back and examined her work. She sighed and pulled his shirt down. "This will have to do. I don't have anything to clean the wound." She frowned with frustration.

She suddenly lifted his hand and put it over his injured side. "Try to apply as much pressure as you can," Clarke instructed.

Bellamy's hand tingled when she let go. He found himself wanting to hold her hand again. Bellamy frowned at his ridiculous thoughts and pushed them away. Here they were, practically in the middle of a war, and he was thinking about holding her hand.

"_Idiot," _Bellamy muttered to himself.

"What?" Clarke said, giving him a pointed look.

Bellamy stiffened. "I, uh-" He had never been at a loss for words like this before! "I just feel like an idiot for letting myself get stabbed. That's all."

Clarke studied him for a long moment. "You did good, Bellamy. You went against the Reapers because you were trying to protect your people."

She gave him a small smile. "Think of your wound as some kind of medal for your heroism."

Bellamy snorted. "I thought medals were supposed to make you feel good. All I feel is impending doom."

Clarke chuckled and shook her head. "You're going to be fine."

They were silent for a long moment. Bellamy found himself studying Clarke again. She wasn't looking at him, she was staring at her lap. Her eyes were sad and her mouth was downcast in sorrow.

Bellamy ignored the impulse to reach out to her. "How did you escape, Princess?" His voice was gentle, like a soft breeze in the night.

Clarke looked at him. "Monty helped me." It was obvious she wanted to say nothing more than that.

Bellamy left it alone and remained silent, watching her fumble with her sleeve. Her eyes, brimming with tears, suddenly met his. "I couldn't save them, Bellamy. I couldn't save our people."

He felt helpless, watching silent tears fall down her fair cheeks. Bellamy wanted nothing more than to wipe them away.

"Hey," he gently coaxed. Clarke hiccupped, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.

"Clarke," Bellamy prodded again. He slowly scooted toward her, carefully holding his wounded side.

He hesitantly put his hand over hers. She was staring at her lap, biting her lip to stop crying. Bellamy put a finger under her chin and lifted her face so that she would look at him.

Bellamy looked into her eyes, her glittering blue eyes. "None of this is your fault, Clarke. You did what you could."

Clarke sniffled and shook her head. "No, Bellamy, I didn't do enough. I was supposed to help them-"

"Did you really expect to be able to go against all of those people at Mount Weather by yourself?"

Clarke paused. "We all were supposed to go against them. But then our plans got thwarted, and…. I was the only one able to escape."

They were silent for a long moment.

"Princess," Bellamy whispered.

She looked at him, looking insecure, as if she expected him to yell at her.

His eyes delved into hers, begging her to trust him. "We will get our people back together."

Clarke gave him a small smile, her expression hopeful.

"I promise," Bellamy reassured.

Clarke's smile grew. "I'm so glad you're alive, Bellamy. I wouldn't be able to do this without you."

_I wouldn't be able to do this without you either, _Bellamy wanted to say. But his pride wouldn't let him.

Clarke's smile grew faint and she paused. "Finn… is he-"

"I don't know," Bellamy cut her off. "I didn't see him when I woke up."

"Where _did_ you wake up?"

Bellamy sighed, sitting back. "I woke up in the middle of the forest, by myself."

"But you were supposed to be dead. I thought you died in the blast," Clarke pressed.

Bellamy shook his head. "No, we left before it happened. It was as if that ugly Reaper I was fighting knew what would happen and he took off. Finn and I chased him, but I couldn't keep up because of my stupid stab wound. Then I heard the blast and I blacked out after that."

Clarke stayed silent, absorbing the information like a sponge. "You're lucky the Mount Weather people didn't find you."

Bellamy grunted. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Clarke sighed. "Well, you should get some rest so that wound can heal."

Bellamy watched her wrap her arms around herself. She was biting her lip, like she usually does when she's thinking about something stressful. He noticed her trembling as she cradled herself, looking deeply overwhelmed.

"Clarke," Bellamy said, breaking into her thoughts.

He swallowed hard when she looked at him. "It's going to get colder tonight and this _car_ isn't warm at all."

Clarke didn't get the hint. She blinked at him, waiting for him to continue. Bellamy sighed in frustration. "Maybe you should lay next to me so that we can both stay warm."

He looked away, letting his words hang in awkward silence. The tension in the small car was suffocating.

Clarke suddenly scooted closer to him until she was sitting across from him. She looked like she was blushing a little. Bellamy almost smiled at that. He carefully laid back and stared at the roof while Clarke settled herself next to him.

He turned his head to look at her. She was staring at the roof, looking deep in her overwhelming thoughts.

"Get some sleep, Princess," Bellamy whispered gently.

She looked at him, her eyes deep with concern. Their faces were inches away, close enough to- No. Bellamy would not go there.

Clarke gave him a faint smile. "You too." She turned on her side and forced her eyes shut.

Bellamy willed himself to look away and he watched the roof again. He listened to the wind gently howling outside. Bellamy sighed and looked at Clarke again.

She was sound asleep. He gently turned on his side so that he was facing her. A sliver of moonlight seeped into the car, highlighting a part of Clarke's face.

Bellamy's eyes roamed over her peaceful face. He found himself gently brushing a stray piece of her wild hair out of her face. He instantly moved his hand away, but he let himself continue watching her.

Bellamy didn't really know what to think of Clarke. She was both his enemy and his ally. He knew she was now more of an ally than an enemy. Clarke was more of a friend. Without a doubt, Bellamy knew he could trust her.

She shivered in the darkness. Bellamy carefully removed his jacket and put it over her. Clarke immediately snuggled into it and stopped trembling. Bellamy smiled a little, studying how her eyelashes blanketed her cheeks.

_Oh, that's sweet,_ Bellamy bitterly thought to himself. _Now I'm thinking of her damn eyelashes. _

He lectured himself on how there were more important things to think about than Clarke and her stupid eyelashes.

"No," Clarke mumbled, twitching in her sleep. "Please, no."

Bellamy looked at her, slightly confused. "Princess," he whispered.

"Please, don't hurt them," Clarke murmured, her brows knit with concern.

"Hey," Bellamy soothed, moving closer to her.

"Let us go!" Clarke cried out.

Bellamy immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, gently hushing her. She twitched for a moment longer, muttering incoherent things, but she eventually relaxed in his arms and rested her head against his chest.

Bellamy couldn't stop the next flood of words from coming. "I won't let anything happen to you, Clarke. I won't let anything happen to our people. Anyone who tries hurting any of you will go through me. And when our enemies try to kill us, I'll fight like hell to take as many of them down with me as I can, before any of them can get to you."

She seemed to relax completely after he said that, though she didn't hear him. Bellamy kept her close, not willing to let go.

_It's just for tonight,_ he told himself. _I'll let myself hold her tonight. I'm only doing it to keep her warm._

And he fell asleep this way, holding Clarke close to him. Bellamy wouldn't admit to himself that he was holding her close because he needed something on this Earth to hold onto. He needed an anchor; and even though he refused to acknowledge it, Clarke has become his anchor.


End file.
